When I told about my near death experience a few weeks ago, I said I was going to come back with some funnies from that hospital stay, so now is the time. Then I can get rid of this note on my desk that keeps reminding me.

1. I had had a new manicure with bright red polish in preparation for my family reunion. After about ten or twelve days in the hospital, no bath, no hair wash, no makeup, hospital gown, one thing remained, my pretty finger nails. The one thing to remind me that I belong to the outside world. I had led a “clean” life. I was still a girl! An old sick one, but still a girl! A nurse came in to check my oxygen count. She put the little meter on my finger and it balked at giving her a reading. She said she would have to remove my polish. It was fightin’ time, I told her I had been there ten days or so and others had got the readings so she could to. She stayed with it and it worked. I still had my polish. Things worth fighting for!
2. Obamacare was new. I was in pain. I asked for pain meds. My answer came in the form of a big banner strung across my room that said, “Obama says no.” I told my sister that they would not give me pain meds. She said she would see about that and she did. Of course, they gave me the meds. The banner? Hallucination, I guess.
3. A lady chaplain came in to see me. I ended up having a great talk with her. I talked, she listened. I think it was the first time she had heard “Jesus” mentioned in Denver. 😀
4. Sometimes they had “entertainment” to come into the room to break up the monotony, I guess. It was nice of them. But a harp player? If I had already gone to Heaven, what am I doing in this bed?
5. The day came for me to get in the shower. They gave me about a dozen wash clothes. I was somewhat acquainted with four forks at a place setting, but a dozen wash clothes. I wet them all so it looked like I knew what I was using them for then I used one. 😀
6. The Occupational Therapist came to show me how to live when I got home. Really! So I sat on the edge of the bed and attempted to put on a pair of bulky sweat pants. Of course, while holding that red heart pillow tight against my chest. At least she got paid.
7. But the real fun began when it was time to go home. Carl had brought his nice SUV to drive me back to OKC. I get wheeled out, of course, clutching the red heart pillow and attached to an oxygen tank. Now the fun begins. I can hardly stand up, for sure I can’t step up in the car so the tug/push/pull game begins. Two or three people try pushing my seat up to the car seat. They put a belt on me and try pulling. I can’t turn around. (I’m about ready to settle for the “harp” in Heaven.) So Carl goes to the other door to try to pull me in. He grabs my arm. Watch it! You can’t do that! No he couldn’t. For one thing I had to hold my pillow. And for another, you don’t pull on the left arm after heart surgery! Well as my brother-in-law says, “There are some things best forgotten.” I guess they finally got me in with the belt. I’m not sure. We were on the road long enough to get out of Denver before I had to stop for a pit break. I remember Carl driving up to a high curb. I don’t think it was too bad. The rest of the trip was uneventful.

I still find it hard to believe I was not even put in Rehab when I got home. I continued on the oxygen about a month. Then I was off it. I don’t mean to be trite when I say, “To God be The Glory.”